


Our Scars

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 23:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10841745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Beth accidentally catches a glimpse of Daryl's scars, she tries to show him that he doesn't need to be ashamed.





	Our Scars

**Author's Note:**

> idek if i like this i lowkey dont lmao i feel like i didnt do a gr9 job of writing the characters but im kind of just done so

Beth wandered down the long, dim hallway of the abandoned house, looking for Daryl. There were photos framed on the walls, and she stopped to peer at them. She wondered who the smiling faces in them had been, what had happened to them. She believed they were alive somewhere. 

Beth made herself continue down the hallway, her boots on the wood flooring the only sounds echoing throughout the house. Finally, she noticed one of the many doors was slightly ajar. 

“Daryl?” she called quietly, pushing the door open the rest of the way. Beth spotted him in front of a dresser on one side of the small room, facing away from her as he pulled a clean shirt on over his head. 

She couldn’t stop the gasp that came out of her mouth when she saw the scars on his back. He jumped, whirling around to block her line of sight. He held the shirt in front of his chest awkwardly, unable to look at her for more than a second at a time. His eyes quickly moved back and forth between her and the floor. She stood in the doorway with her mouth open, unsure of what to say.

“What’re you doin’?” Daryl muttered angrily.

“I—I’m sorry,” she said quickly, getting over the shock of seeing a deeply personal part of him.

“Just get out.” His face was red, twisted up in the way it did when he was close to crying.

“Wait, Daryl,” Beth said softly, taking a step toward him. He didn’t flinch or move away like he often did, and she took another step forward. He was standing stiffly, still staring at the floor with his hair in his face, but he was allowing her to get closer to him. Finally, she stood in front of him, rolling up the left sleeve of her sweater. 

“This is from when I tried to kill myself,” she murmured, holding her arm out to display the long, thin scar along her wrist.

Daryl shifted slightly and looked at her exposed wrist. He was silent for a long moment, before mumbling, “‘m sorry.”

Beth shook her head. “It’s okay,” she insisted. “I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of it. This scar means that I survived, I lived. I got through it.”

He still wouldn't look directly at her, but he was listening intently.

“I just… It’s okay, Daryl. You don’t have to be embarrassed. You don’t have to hate what’s on your body or try to hide it. What I saw told me that you’re a survivor, and you can make it through anything.” Beth looked at him, nodding as a way of enforcing her words.

He swallowed, nodding back slightly, and Beth thought she saw tears in his eyes. Still clutching the shirt to his chest, Daryl let out a shaky breath and turned around slowly.

Up close, Beth saw that the scars were even worse than she had thought. Long, pale, jagged marks snaked all across his broad back. She could tell that the wounds had been deep, painful. The scars were old, raised and hard and gnarled. 

“My dad,” she heard Daryl say quietly.

She couldn't imagine having a father that could do something like that. A sharp pain stabbed in her stomach when she thought of the hell Daryl’s life must have been. She brought a trembling hand up, and, after hesitating for a moment, pressed her fingers to one of the mangled patches of skin. Daryl flinched and stiffened, all his muscles tensing, but he didn’t pull away. His body relaxed after a moment. Beth brought another hand up, following one of the long lines of raised tissue from a shoulder blade to the small of his back with her fingers. She traced every inch of his back, every mark, slowly and quietly. 

Daryl finally turned around and looked at Beth, and she saw he had tears in his eyes. Suddenly struck with the realization that it was likely no one had ever touched him kindly before, she jumped onto her toes and flung her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, burying his face in her neck.

After several moments, Daryl whispered, “Thank you, Beth,” his voice trembling.

Beth just nodded, and held him even tighter.


End file.
